


Reaching Out

by intersstellar



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Anger, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Annabeth Chase Actually Has ADHD, Annabeth Chase Actually Has Dyslexia, Comfort, Curtain Fic, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Headcanon, that's kind of become my own tag now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21693136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intersstellar/pseuds/intersstellar
Summary: Annabeth is stuck doing homework. On Christmas break. Left alone at Percy's, she watches the snow drift outside the window and wishes she could just get away from it all.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson
Comments: 3
Kudos: 75





	Reaching Out

Annabeth shook out her hands, frustration welling up inside her. 

Snow was pouring down outside, and she was in doing homework. On Christmas break. She forced her head away from the window and looked down at her laptop. 

She had to finish an essay in two hours. The house was totally silent. She was staying at Percy’s, in New York, for the break. They had wanted to go to Camp, but decided against it because of the slippery road. Sally and Paul had gone out to buy groceries for their grand Christmas dinner, and Percy had gone to buy new lights for the tree, since they hadn’t lit up all the way when they plugged them into the wall. 

Annabeth dragged her attention back to the work. She couldn’t remember where she had left off, and she was too tired to try. She took a steadying breath, the way her teachers had taught her to do. _Just breathe,_ they’d said. _Just concentrate._

Just concentrate. Easier said than done. 

She typed a filler sentence, something she knew was correct. Sally had offered to type it for her, so she could finish it faster. Annabeth had said no. She didn’t want to be a bother. 

She clicked on another tab in her browser, where all her research was. It had taken her just about a million years to understand the scholarly articles she was supposed to reference and paste the information she needed into a document, and now she didn’t even have the energy to read her research. Mustering up every ounce of will she had left, Annabeth looked at the first quoted source. She read it, word by word. Soon she had reached the end of the page. She blinked. Had she really read all that? She had read it, sure, but she hadn’t actually retained any of the information that was there. 

She felt like screaming. She needed to do this. She needed to finish. So why couldn’t she just _do it?_

Stop being lazy, she told herself. Let’s get on with it. 

But she couldn’t. If she looked at the words, her brain didn’t read them. If she read the words, her brain didn’t process them. If she processed the words, her brain refused to write them on her page. The number of steps she needed to do for each action loomed in front of her like a terrible staircase, and the weight of it fell on her like the sky. It was impossible. 

Tears blurred the page in front of her. The cursor blinked tauntingly. 

She stood up, not knowing what to do. The undone task loomed overwhelmed her, but the thought of sitting down and doing it was almost painful. _What’s in it for me?_ her brain seemed to say. Nothing. We work and we work and we work—for nothing. 

She let out a small sob, clenching her fists. She wanted to run far away and never see school or work or words ever again. 

Instead, she sank back into her chair. Angry tears streamed down her face. She didn’t know what to do with her body—her hands were balled tightly, her eyes squeezed shut. She was acutely aware of her breaths, coming in quick and uneven. 

What would Percy do? He would find a way out. He would fight so that he didn’t have to do this. _He would blow something up._

A laugh burst out of her mouth. It sounded sad, even to her. 

She used to tell herself to shove her feeling deep down and bust her way through it. Force herself through long lectures and gruelling tests. Percy didn’t do that. Percy fought _it_ , not through it. He reached inside himself and channelled all the bravery he could to confront others—his teachers, his enemies. And when that didn’t work... he reached out. 

Annabeth reached for her phone. Percy had taken his mom’s mobile, in case power went out at home. Annabeth called it. 

It rang once, then Percy picked up. “Annabeth?” 

A lump rose in her throat. “Can you come home? Please? I need your help.” 

He must’ve heard the shake in her voice. “I’m on my way.” 

He hung up. 

She waited for him. She paced the room, shaking out her hands. The front door opened only ten minutes later. Percy poked his head in the room. “Hey,” he said. Then reading her face, he said softer, “Hey.” His eyebrows pinched together. “What’s wrong?” 

She stopped in the middle of the room and looked at the ground. “I can’t do it,” she said, fresh hot tears spilling down her face again. “I can’t.” 

“Your assignment?” 

She nodded. She couldn’t find the words for what she wanted to explain to him, so she just put out her arms, asking for a hug. He came forward and pulled her tightly against him, his hair smelling like wind and salt. His hands and cheeks were still cold. 

She remembered when they were fifteen, they’d been in the Athena cabin at camp. She’d been feeling the same way, then, as she was now. Frustrated, disheartened, and a little bit hopeless. Malcolm had walked in on them together. 

There was no one to walk in on them now. She held Percy close, feeling safe, until the tears stopped flowing. Then she sniffed and laid her head on his shoulder. “I don’t know what to do.” 

“You know,” he said, “the good part about being attacked by monsters is that you never have to finish a project you don’t like.” 

She laughed. It was brighter than before. 

“Maybe you could email your teacher,” he said, more serious this time. “Let them know there was a problem with the networking at your house. We’ll make you an excuse, and you can ask for a little more time. Then I’ll help you.” He winced. “Actually, my mom will help you.” 

She smiled and pulled away. The plan seemed so simple. “Why didn’t I think of that?” 

He studied her face. “You didn’t have to.” 

It was a warm comfort. “Did you get the lights? For the tree?” 

A grin lit up his face. “Yeah. Want to help me set it up?” 

Of course she did. 

She followed him out into the hall, a smile growing on her face. The worst wasn’t so bad, with him. 


End file.
